


Even if we fall from grace

by crayyyonn



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: M/M, Porn, Porn with Feelings, Rare Pair, lots of feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-16
Updated: 2015-05-16
Packaged: 2018-03-30 08:56:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3930733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crayyyonn/pseuds/crayyyonn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Keith and Xiu's reconciliation following the Battle. Basically porn with sap.</p><p>Title from I'll Follow You by Shinedown.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Even if we fall from grace

It’s dark in Keith’s room. The only source of light is a rogue ray from the street lamps outside, peeking through the slightly parted curtains to illuminate a dim line across the carpet. Next to him, Xiu is snoring lightly. Keith used to find it annoying. Now he revels in it.

The past few months have been the worst of his life.

Leaning back against the headboard, Keith clenches a fist. Slivers of pain shoot up his arm and he almost lets loose a cry before he remembers, and forces it back. Still, a muffled gasp escapes, deafening in the stillness of the night, and Keith freezes.

Xiu’s snores don't hitch. Keith huffs out a breath in relief.

He never knew, could never have imagined, that losing Xiu would hurt so much he felt it right down to the depths of his being.

If learning they could never play tennis again was like losing a limb, Xiu’s decision to leave rent him clear in two. The sharp stab of betrayal, already a lingering bruise from the result of their terminal match, had expanded with Xiu’s abandonment like a sore Keith picked incessantly at. It took on a life of its own, darkening into a black rage that surged with the destructive force of a tsunami, threatening to drown everyone and everything in its way, and Keith was all too glad for it to.

Only it was Keith himself who’s pulled under instead, just like the day he’d flipped himself over the bridge into the Thames.

This time, no one comes diving in after him.

In slumber, Xiu is turned away from Keith, allowing him to study the profile that has long been seared on his mind. This isn’t something he thought he could ever have again, and Keith wants to make the most of every second, before—well, before.

It's inevitable; Xiu never was one to make promises.

If asked, Keith will readily admit that Xiu’s sharply-angled face is not an exceptionally beautiful one, but it’s dear to him all the same. Reaching out a hand, he settles his palm against Xiu’s cheek, thumb stroking the protruding bone with singular focus. The extent for which he feels for this face, this person, terrifies Keith so much that it freezes him in place, staying him each time he gets the urge to run.

Run he should have, as far and as quickly as he could, that first time he realized what he felt for Xiu wasn’t just comradeship and camaraderie. Run he should have, when he knew with absolute certainty Xiu’s feelings for him didn’t root as deep. And run he should have, once he’d learned the forbidden taste of Xiu’s mouth, the blistering heat of his passion, the sheer freedom just being with Xiu affords.

How could Keith be blamed for wanting more?

He’s still in awe that Xiu is here, with him, after everything. Time has to be running out.

Keith feels rather than hear Xiu’s breathing hitch before he turns. Still half in sleep, he sighs and nuzzles into the warmth of Keith’s palm, now uncomfortably wedged between Xiu’s cheek and the bed. An arm comes up to rest on Keith’s thigh, unsettlingly close to his crotch. He suppresses a shiver of sudden want. Xiu had taken him, fucked him raw the second Keith’s apartment door had shut behind them, drawing it out for hours, and Keith let him. After all, he owes him at least this.

Yet it isn’t enough, not nearly. When it comes to Xiu, it won’t ever be.

With a moan, Xiu stirs, slowly blinking awake under Keith’s watch. It triggers that surge of emotions in his chest again, familiar and frightening and Keith has to draw an unsteady breath. The rage had all but disappeared, long before their confrontation. But in its place it left the confusing stew of irritation and affection and lust Keith seem to be subject to when he’s around Xiu. He’s long since ceased to resent it or seek to escape.

“Hey.”

Xiu’s whisper is hoarse from sleep. Keith shoots him a half smile but he must have shaped it wrong, because Xiu sits up with a frown.

Yawning, he reaches for Keith’s hand. “What’s wrong?”

Already missing the soft, sleep-warm skin of Xiu’s cheek, Keith studies their laced fingers for several heartbeats. There’s a bump on Xiu’s racket wrist Keith knows he put there. He shrugs.

“That Echizen, he’s good.”

“So are you.”

He picked the lesser of two evils but Xiu seems to understand, if his hands tightening around Keith’s are any indication.

“I meant it, okay? I don’t care if I have to play on the streets for the rest of my life, as long as I get to play with you. Keith.” Reaching out, Xiu lifts Keith’s chin until their eyes meet. “Keith, all I want is to be able to play with you. How, where, who against, all that matters nothing to me. As long as it’s you by my side. Only you. Do you understand that?”

Xiu’s voice shakes with sincerity and Keith finds himself unable to look away.

“Xiu,” he says, helpless, and Xiu kisses him.

It's careful and it's sweet, and Keith never wants it to end. Feeling Xiu pull away, Keith lunges forward desperately, parting Xiu’s lips with an eager tongue, sweeping along the roof of his mouth for that addictive taste that had felled Keith since the very beginning.

They’re panting when they part. Xiu’s lips are swollen and red, and it sends a fierce satisfaction zipping through Keith. Xiu must read it in his expression, because he laughs.

“You haven’t had enough just now?” He’s teasing Keith’s neck with butterfly kisses, alternating them with nips on his pulse, traveling down to the straining tendon as Keith arches in response.

“With you, never. Xiu, I—”

Keith cuts himself off as Xiu’s kisses travel lower to suck lightly on his collarbone, to lap at a nipple, to swirl in his navel. Heat and arousal flickers through his veins, just this side of unbearable, and he moans, shuddering through every wet swipe of Xiu’s tongue.

Pausing just above Keith’s cock, Xiu hovers. Keith's cock stirs interestedly at the hot breath gusting over the sensitive head. With a soft whine, he spreads his legs further, knowing what a wanton image he’s presenting but wholly unable to care. His eyes meet Xiu’s, which have gone dark with lust as they stare up at him, almost as if asking for permission. Keith knows better, knows a challenge when he sees one, knows _Xiu_ and his appetite for breathy pleas.

He licks his lips. “Xiu,” he whispers, “Xiu, _please_ —”

Almost instantly, his world is reduced to soft heat and wet suction. Anchoring his fingers in Xiu’s hair, Keith arches up into that enthusiastic mouth, breathing turning harsh as it bobs up and down. The fire in his blood rages, threatens to explode. It’s almost too much, it’s not nearly enough.

Fingers circle him, warm and slick, the fleeting touches such a stark contrast from the hard suction on his cock that he shakes. He pushes back, encouraging, demanding, letting out a pleased hum when he feels not one, but two digits begin to press into him.

They slip in easily. Xiu’s victorious chuckle is low, dirty. “You’re still so loose, Keith. So good.”

Keith’s only response is a moan as he concentrates on the sensations Xiu’s fingers elicit from inside him. He lifts his legs, winding them around Xiu’s waist, pulling him in, and Xiu draws a quick breath. “You’re always so good for me.”

Xiu takes his time, sliding his fingers in and out of Keith, stretching him out slowly. He feels his thoughts turning into molasses, sticky and warm without heads or tails. The water rushes in, surrounding him, holding him up and Keith lets himself drift, secure in the knowledge that it’s Xiu on him, inside him, all around him.

Then Xiu curls his fingers just so, and Keith snaps back into his body with a sharp gasp. His body undulates in a drawn-out shudder that travels all the way to his toes. Xiu is still sucking him off, one hand holding him still as his tongue curls around him, lapping him as he leaks.

Fingers tightening in Xiu’s hair, Keith gasps, “Oh god, Xiu.” He pulls Xiu up and kisses him, messy, open mouthed, pushing harder into the hands that are expertly stroking him both within and out.

“Please, _please_. Now, Xiu.”

With some difficulty, he tears himself away, fumbling on the nightstand for the bottle of lube and a condom. Xiu grabs them from him with a predatory grin, tearing open the foil packet with his teeth. Keith's cock jumps as the blood rushes down. It makes him a little dizzy. He digs his teeth into his bottom lip.

“Come on, come on come on come _on_.”

It takes everything for him to not reach out until Xiu is neatly sheathed and slicked, thick plastic glistening with liquid. At the feeling of Xiu’s cock at his entrance, he lets out a harsh sob.

“Ready?” Xiu asks, voice rough where his hands are gentle, holding Keith up.

Keith nods, frantic. “Yes, yes, Xiu, always.”

He swallows the whine when Xiu finally, _finally_ pushes into him, bottoming out in a long, smooth motion. Oh, the _heat_. Xiu is pulsing inside him, to the same rhythm his body is, all around Keith. It feels divine.

“You okay?”

Not that Keith doesn’t appreciate the concern, but. “Yes, goddamnit, _move_.”

Eyes dark, Xiu smirks. “Alright, since you asked so prettily.”

Rising onto his forearms, Xiu pulls out, drawing a sound of protest out of Keith as he scrabbles to hold him down. Almost immediately, he slams back in. Keith’s nails dig into Xiu’s shoulders, making him hiss. The sound shoots straight to Keith’s cock.

It’s a brutal rhythm that Xiu sets, his hips snapping hard and fast as he fucks Keith open, balls slapping against Keith’s ass with every thrust. This is it, Keith thinks. This is what he’d missed all those months with Xiu gone. All those months when he’d had his tennis stripped away from him, his truest friend turning on him. The months when all he had left was the empty space by his side to echo the nothing he felt when he took yet another tennis player down, each smack of ball against flesh battering his own body in turn. Months when he had nothing to live for, nothing to lose. Nothing _left_ to lose.

Keith never wants to go back there again.

He lunges forward when Xiu leans in to kiss him. He’s too eager and their teeth clack together and Xiu laughs, hot breath stained with the rusty taste of blood. It sends want spiking through Keith and he groans, bowing his body when Xiu rolls into him in search of evasive friction.

“Jesus, Keith,” Xiu grunts, hands coming up to Keith’s shoulders to hold him still, his movements never stalling. “Keith, baby, you feel so fucking good. Fuck.” Keith’s only reply is a moan of Xiu’s name.

Xiu is warm, so warm. Inside Keith, the fire burns hot, licking along every cell and nerve ending, intensifying with every brush of fingers, every roll of hips. The swirling water curls into a riptide, pulling him down, down, down.

Keith has no choice but to let it take him, but Xiu has other ideas. Xiu, his anchor, his rock. A hand wraps around his cock, wrenching him up through the current and out. It pumps him to the same unforgiving rhythm Xiu is using to drive into him, and Keith lets out a long, pained whine. It’s too much, too soon, stinging like the first tendrils of oxygen in his lungs after an aeon of suffocation. The fire blazes white hot.

Xiu comes first, crying out harshly as his hips stutter and slow. The hand on Keith’s cock squeezes, a reflexive motion. Body still shaking, his lips find Keith’s, punctuating little biting kisses with whispered prayers and benedictions. Keith falls that way, covered from head to toe by Xiu, toes curling as his mind blanks with the force of the orgasm that shreds through his body.

He doesn’t know how much time has passed, but when he comes to, he’s in Xiu’s arms. Clean, dry, warm. Safe. Xiu is pressing lingering kisses onto his face, his eyes, his lips, and Keith smiles tiredly up at him, reveling in the petting as his mind tries to find purchase within his body. It’s slow going, and it takes him a few moments to register that Xiu is talking to him.

“—you feel? Are you hurt anywhere? Sore?”

It’s been a while, but while he does feel a little too stretched, he’s more interested in the drugging feeling of contentment, so he shakes his head.

“A little, but I’m fine.”

Xiu still looks worried, so Keith reaches up a hand to tug on his hair, tangling his fingers in the short strands.

“Really. It’s nothing a hot bath won’t cure.”

He trails his hand down Keith’s face, past his shoulder, his arm, down to his wrist. The bump is more prominent from this angle. Gently, Keith runs a finger over it, tracing the curve to commit it to memory.

 _I’m sorry_ , he thinks, accepting of the familiar regret and self-loathing that courses through him. He’ll always be sorry. Sorry for ruining Xiu, ruining them, ruining their future. If they never play again—if Xiu never plays again, it’ll all be on him.

“Hey.”

Keith doesn’t hear him. He should have stopped this—this all-encompassing affection for Xiu, back when it had first budded. He should have pushed Xiu away tonight, when he followed Keith back to his apartment from the ER. He should never have indulged, not then, not now, and maybe they wouldn’t be so broken. And Xiu, maybe he would still have his tennis. He could still have it, if Keith could find it in him to—

A warm palm lands on his cheek. “Stop that. You’re not running away from me, not on my watch.”

“But Xiu, your tennis.”

“Fuck tennis. I love _you_ , okay? Not tennis. It’s us or nothing. Get it into your thick head already.”

Keith blinks. “You—You don’t mean that. You never—”

Xiu’s eyes are shining.

“Yes.” His arms come up to wrap around Keith, drawing his unresisting body in so it’s flush against his. “I always have. Ever since—well, ever since, how long ago was our last official match again?” he says. The laugh that follows shakes slightly.

This can't be happening. Keith feels dazed. He wants to laugh. “I don’t know, how long has it been since we met?”

“Since we—”

It’s minute, but this close, he feels Xiu stiffen.

“All this time?”

“All this time,” Keith confirms. He keeps his face pressed against Xiu.

“Why have you never told me?”

Keith shrugs. “I thought you were straight, so I didn’t think you’d, well. And then Clack happened and you did, and I was going to, but you.”

“But I left."

“You left. I always thought what we had was a distraction for you. Some warped kind of stress relief or a way to work off the adrenaline. I went with it, figuring you’d never feel the way I did. Anyway it doesn’t matter anymore.”

“It matters,” Xiu starts fiercely but stops there. There is silence for long moments before Xiu says again, “It matters. And I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you, I swear.”

Running his hands down Xiu’s back, Keith presses a kiss on Xiu’s sternum. “You already are, Xiu. Being here with me, after everything.”

_Just promise me you won't leave._

It’s a long shot and although Keith is feeling optimistic for once, he still can't bring himself to say it out loud. He feels tennis calloused hands shifting him, pulling him up so he’s facing Xiu.

“What?”

The answering kiss is chaste. Just a brief press of lips, but it’s warm and a covenant and after a couple of heartbeats, Keith closes his eyes, smiling into it.

**Author's Note:**

> Man, it took me way too long to finish this.


End file.
